


Dressed Down

by kingsofneon



Series: horny reading list [31]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Boys in Skirts, Exhibitionism, M/M, Power Imbalance, Spanking, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:28:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29724873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingsofneon/pseuds/kingsofneon
Summary: Sabo decides to take one of Marco's requests literally. Marco does the same.
Relationships: Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco/Sabo
Series: horny reading list [31]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1641943
Comments: 8
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [fuck the truth](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28726173) by [kingsofneon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingsofneon/pseuds/kingsofneon). 
  * Inspired by [cont(r)act](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28573362) by Anonymous. 



They don’t even get to lunch before Marco has him by the wrist and is dragging him into his office.

“What are you wearing?” Marco asks, arms folded over his chest, and Sabo affixes an innocent look to his face.

“What you told me to wear.”

Marco scoffs. “Oh, I most certainly did not tell you to wear a skirt, Sabo.”

“You told me to follow the dress code, boss.” Sabo indicates his hand down his body, watching Marco’s eyes follow the gesture before his gaze snaps up, a light flush on his cheeks. “I’m just doing what you asked.”

“That’s not the-” Marco says, and then his gaze sharpens. “You’re following the women’s dress code.“

Sabo’s lips twitch. “Oh, what? Really? The dress code is gender-specific?”

Marco’s eyes narrow further, and Sabo has to press his lips together to stop from smiling. “I think,” Marco says, his eyes slits and the words slow and threatening, disapproval rolling off his tongue, “that you need to be spanked.”

“Think I’d let you?” Sabo says tauntingly, trying to suffocate the shiver that ran through him at Marco’s words, and Marco smirks.

“I think that if I wanted to be particularly mean, I could make you beg for it, yoi.”

Sabo knows his mocking smile says everything; but Marco’s grin only gets wider. He takes a seat, languid, and cocks a finger. “Come here, Sabo,” he says, and then his dumb face gets all- Sabo doesn’t have the words for it, the way everything about him gets this aura of _command,_ but he finds his feet moving him closer when Marco says, “please, darling. I don’t have all day to wait for you.”

He stops in front of the desk, leaning back against it, and Marco stretches out on leg to keep him bracketed there. “Thought I only got spanked if I wasn’t good,” Sabo says, and Marco scoffs.

“What, and yesterday your behaviour was exemplary?”

“Shoulda spanked me yesterday, then,” he retorts, but he knows he’s grinning at the memory coming to the forefront of his head. Remembers the subtle pinch of the corset he’d worn under his coat, that Marco had discovered when he set about at their routine after-work fuck. Remembers informing Marco that he’d planned a dinner meeting, giving Marco barely enough time to shove Sabo’s clothing back at him with a foul glare. Remembers sneaking off to the bathroom and turning the tables, Marco writhing under his hands, suit ruined and hair askew, and how for the rest of the evening he still looked slightly debauched, constantly running his hand across his bite-marked shoulders and trying to find an excuse for the flush on his face. 

Remembers Marco ordering him to follow the dress code tomorrow, and how _dark_ his face went when Sabo showed up this morning with a skirt.

‘Besides, I seem to remember you only said that you’d spank me if I didn’t follow the dress code properly. As you can see, the dress code has been followed.”

Marco reaches out to snag his waist, tugging him between Marco’s spread legs, and Sabo bites back a yelp. “I’ve changed my mind,” Marco says. “Besides, why else would you wear a skirt but to give me better access to your pretty ass, Sabo?”

“’Cause I look good in skirts?”

“You’ll look better with your ass the same colour as my anger at you, I think.”

“And how angry are you?” Sabo murmurs, leaning down for a kiss, and Marco smirks at him, holding a hand in front of Sabo’s mouth.

“You’ll just have to see, won’t you.”


	2. sabo gets spanked some more :)

Marco pulls at his hip, and Sabo lets himself be manhandled, Marco’s grip tight as he gets slung over Marco’s knee. His skirt feels too short now, riding up his thigh, and then-

Shit he’d known he was going to be into this, but it’s another thing entirely to have Marco’s fingers tracing up his inner thigh, pushing the skirt up higher, till the fabric is bunched around his hips and his ass is bared to the office. He shivers as the aircon meets his skin, and bites his lip as Marco’s broad palm strokes his thigh.

“Good girl.”

Sabo’s face flushes bright red, a choked protest escaping him, and Marco makes a curious, impatient noise.

“What, princess?” he asks, the words harsh, and Sabo wants to fucking whimper, hotly humiliated by how much he’s enjoying this. _Princess,_ Marco says, the nickname dripping with a heady mix of disdain and adoration, good _girl,_ and Sabo feels like his insides are fucking squirming. Marco’s hand traces over the curve of Sabo’s ass, and he pushes back into the touch, muscles braced and tense though he knows he shouldn’t be. That it’ll hurt more if he’s tense, but-

Marco slams his hand down and Sabo _howls_.

“Count, princess,” Marco orders, and Sabo shakes his head, his hands grasping Marco’s pants, breath already falling into harsh pants at the singing sting. “Count, or I’ll bring someone in to count for you.”

Before Sabo can speak, he slams his hand down again, absolute fire lighting up Sabo’s skin.

“ _Two_ ,” he says, squirming on Marco’s lap. “How many-?”

“Till I feel better about you being a shit,” Marco retorts, and then Sabo can feel him shift, can feel his free hand pushing at the middle of Sabo’s back to keep him from move, and he wants to beg so bad that he has to bury his face in Marco’s lap to stop the urge.

“Hurry up,” he snipes, and hears Marco _laugh_ at him, dark and mean.

“So eager,” he teases, and the next spanks are lighter but no less wonderful, against his thighs and so low that Sabo _knows_ they’ll be visible when he pulls his skirt back into place. “If you want me to do so much for you next time I’ll have to get a crop so I don’t bruise my palm. Or get you a machine to keep going when I get tired, how about that? I bet your ass would be just as red as your face, Sabo.”

“Can’t even do- ah, _ten-!_ Can’t even do ten- ten spanks without your soft little hands- ge-getting sore?” Sabo says, breathless, mind swimming as he tries to hold onto the right numbers amidst the steady flurry of Marco’s palm striking him. His cock is leaking; he can fucking _feel_ it, pressed wet against Marco’s thigh, but he can barely rut down with Marco’s hand pressed to his back.

Marco _laughs,_ the fucker, bright and teasing, and Sabo has to suffocate a moan at the sound, squirming on Marco’s lap. “Princess, I don’t think, out of the two of us, that my _hand_ is what’s currently _sore_.” His fingertips dig into the muscle of Sabo’s ass, and Sabo cries out at the sharp flares of pain that puncture him under the rough touch.

“Fuck, Marco- _ah,_ please-” he groans, tears springing to his eyes as Marco plays with him, touching so unapologetically as skin gets set alight. He pulls his hand back, leaving Sabo just enough time to heave in three desperate breaths, his cock fucking throbbing, before Marco lays into him again.

“Are you even going to be able to sit down when I’m through with you?” Marco says, sounding _delighted_ even as his hand falls steady and vicious against Sabo’s thighs and bare ass. “Bet it’s going to fucking _hurt,_ trying to sit in your chair and do paperwork, what with my handprints all over you.”

“ _Please_ ,” he whimpers, his voice barely a whisper as he clenches at the fabric of Marco’s pants. Marco spanks him again, the sound harsh and ringing in his empty office, and Sabo moans out _eighteen,_ the sound so pathetically needy that he just sobs at twenty.

“Good girl,” Marco says again, “come on. Ten more.”

“ _Ten?”_

“That’s it,” Marco says, and _hits,_ so hard that Sabo _yelps._ “Now, nine.”

Sabo shakes his head, tiny whimpers all his throat can manage, but he can almost feel Marco’s hand hovering in the air, the promise that if he waits it will just hurt more, because the pain will have faded, and he has no idea what he wants but he's always been greedy for _more_ -

“N-nine-?" he offers, and as soon as the word leaves his lips, Marco’s palm is against him again, making him howl. “Marco!” he cries, openly crying now, salt on his tongue even as Marco’s hand on his back lifts, giving him the leverage to rut against his perfect fucking thigh. “Please-” he whimpers, “Lemme- I’m good, lemme cum. Let me-”

“Eight now, darling,” Marco says, his free hand running down Sabo’s back in soft, soothing motions, and Sabo’s breath catches on his next sob.

He’s expecting it when he finally manages to breathe the next number, but _expectation_ is always different from reality, from _where_ Marco decides to hit, and Sabo lets out an absolutely filthy mewl when Marco’s fingers catch the inside of his rim, sensitive and as-of-yet untouched. His breath fucking hiccups, but he’s so _close_ that he sobs _seven-six-five_ in rapid procession, each number punctuated by a hit until he can barely breathe through the pleasure.

“Thought you wanted to cum,” Marco says thoughtfully as Sabo tries to catch his breath, and Sabo whines again, his eyes closed against the hot sting of tears and drool splattering onto the carpet below them. He tries to swallow, move in any fucking way that shows to Marco that _please,_ he _does,_ but Marco just sighs as Sabo gathers the strength, and runs his palm along Sabo’s aching flesh. It stings, so wonderfully, that Sabo sobs again, his body trembling. “You’ve got five left, but I’ll stop if you cum.”

He can do that. _God_ he can do that; he’s so close, cock burnt by the friction of Marco’s harsh slacks and ever so eager for Marco’s hand, but then Marco-

Marco leans down, lips placed against Sabo’s ear, and whispers tauntingly, “Go on. Prove you’re a little whore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags bc they were good: will i write more! idk #but do know that sabo is like oh my god i cant come now he wants to humiliate me #but also oh god wanna cum so bad or he's just gonna keep spanking me can i even last when he's so good at it? #coughs u get to imagine the ending u like. #if he does cum there is much teasing and banter and marco giving him some kisses but then #sending sabo back out on trembling legs to sit at his Very Uncomfortable desk chair with his spanked-as-fuck ass  
> if he doesnt  
> marco doesnt let him cum at all. but lets sabo stay in his lap for a bit#//bc its more fun to tease him when hes close / he doesnt want sabo sneaking away to take care of his erection, and THEN he sends sabo to sit back out at his desk
> 
> also! review. bc u stan spanking or sabo or marco or me. many options for u to pick. i love reviews. thankings.   
> oh also idk if ppl know this but i post headcanons + fic snippets on kingsofneon.tumblr.com. blooog, baby.

**Author's Note:**

> reviewww et all. 👏👏 i believe in u
> 
> [tumblr](http://kingsofneon.tumblr.com)


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